The Final Call
by RaphSai03
Summary: After gaining a severe wound in a battle with the foot, Raphael knows he doesn't have much time. He uses his final moments to call his lover, Leonardo, for one last goodbye.


Irony always gets to me, in one way or another. Sometimes it makes me laugh, because for some reason I find the unlikeliness to be amusing. For instance, in the movie 'Final Destination 3,' a boy is about to propose to his girlfriend, whilst she's planning to breakup with him. But then there are situations like the one I'm living through, to which I curse myself for ever ending up in. I hate to admit that my life is ending at the hands of coincidence's bitter cousin.

Perhaps everything would've been okay had I not sarcastically promised Leo I'd come back in one piece. One piece. Those were my words. I must've jinxed it, because here I am now, stranded on a rooftop in n the middle of New York city, with my decapitated left leg a mere three feet away from me.

"DAMN!" I cry out, as if I weren't the only one in this abyss of agony, as if someone might actually come for me. But I made it clear that I didn't want anyone following after me when I stormed out of the lair.

Funny, actually, because I don't even remember what pissed me off so much that lead to me blowing up in another one of my infamous fits. It had to do with Leonardo, and a misunderstanding that lead to a fight. Once more, ironic, given that today's our three-month anniversary. Three-months and still brawling as brutally as we had as brothers.

There had been disgusting thoughts swimming in the depths of my twisted mind during our scene. All I could process was this inevitable urge to slap is pretty little face until he bled. For once, I controlled myself, keeping my clenched fists at my side. Despite this, I still can't get the fact that thought even crossed my mind. I mean, what the hell was a thinking? That's my boyfriend. The man I'm falling for, the love of my life. My god, the last time I ever had him within arm's reach will have been spent with abusive thoughts swarming my head. The last words I ever spoke to him crept out from between gritted teeth. They were vile and threatening, not an ounce of love so much as hinted.

I pound my fist against the gravel roof, my lips pursed as I hold back a scream. I should've never left, not like that. If I'd just listened to Leo, stayed behind with my family, I'd be safe. I wouldn't be on death's doorstep.

What'd happened . . . I don't know. I hadn't a second to comprehend what was going on before a wave of foot-soldiers trampled me in a fight. My cocky self didn't give the possibility of calling for backup a second thought. As usual, I figured I could take them on solo.

There were too any, and more were on the way. What started as ten doubled to twenty, tripled to sixty. I had at least five on my shell when I broke away, and I immediately made beeline for the abandoned subway tunnels. Somehow, I managed to shake most of them off. Most.

One remained, and he was carrying a large blade. He was swinging it back, ready to aim at my neck, when I pushed him off. Nevertheless, his weapon swung hitting my leg fiercely. Cutting it off, actually. He fell into an ally, while I rolled onto a rooftop.

I don't know how long it's been, but I do know that it's too late for me. Even if I called Donnie up right now, he wouldn't have the time to save me. I'm bleeding out, and quickly.

They're wrong when they say that moments before death, you watch your whole life flash before your eyes. The only thing I've seen since the second my body collided with the rooftop is single face. Mint skin, sapphire eyes brighter than all the stars combined. His royal blue bandana is nothing but a nuisance as it covers the gentle curves of this marvelous features. I'd do just about anything to be caressing his cheek right about now.

An urge ignites, lighting itself like a spark on the end of match. I tear my phone out of my belt pocket, because if I'm going to die, and I can't be in Leonardo's arms, then you can bet your ass that I'm at least going to be listening to his voice. I dial his number, the one that's all too familiar, the only one I have memorized. The phone barely rings twice before he answers.

"Babe," he lets out a sigh. "Thank god, I've been worried sick. Where the hell are you? Are you okay?" Leo's voice is filled to the brim with worry and stress and concern. Strange, given that this is what ultimately what lead me to not telling him about my leg.

"I'm fine, love. Don't you worry your pretty little face." My sore throat croaks with my words, causing me to wince.

I shift uncomfortably, trying to find a potion that will prevent the most bloodshed. Propping my phone on my shoulder, I crane my neck to hold it down. My hands get to work on untying bandages from around my ankles and wrists. Hopefully, the pressure from the material will stop me from bleeding out so fast.

"You don't sound fine. What's going on? Did something happen? Do I need to come get you form somewhere?" I can practically see my boyfriend frantically running about the lair, in search of his patrol gear. But I can't let him see me like this, just as much as I can't worry him.

Taking a deep breath, I calmly reply, "Sweetheart, darling, baby, I'm fine. Really. Just out on patrol and figured I'd call and let you know how everything was."

Leonardo heaves a heavy sigh, as if he'd been holding his breath, waiting for good news. If only I could provide some without lying. "Okay, okay. How is it out there?"

"Pretty dead." I mentally kick myself for the unintentional pun; and then again for the second.

"Tell me where you are. I'll meet up with you, and bring coffee and blankets. We can lay under the stars and do whatever you'd like. Please, Raphie, I just don't want to spend today fighting with you." There's the slightest bit of a plea in his voice. Perhaps he put it there intentionally, because he knows how hard it is for me to say no when his wide, saucer eyes are lined with tears, and his words are begging.

But when I glance at the stars, barely visible through a sea of city lights, I know in my heart that I can't bring him into this. He should not have to deal with my pain, my mistakes and agony and sorrow. He is an innocent boy who deserves a blissful life. If he were to rush out here and hold me in his masculine arms as I drifted into a plane of absence, he would never recover. There would forever be a part of his mind that blames himself for my death, because he was the only one who knew what was happening, therefore, the only one who could've saved me. It would be seen that he let me die, even though there wasn't a thing he could do to reverse the fate I'm dealing with.

Leonardo is, as I like to think of it, a weak, willful soul. There is a difference between strength and ability, between fearlessness and bravery. Yes, he leads his brothers and allies into life or death battles on a nightly basis, and he is the second in command of the Hamato clan. But he will never be useful in a crisis.

If he came to me right now, while I'm in my current state, he would focus on my physical state. He'd feed me some of that, "I'll get you to safety and everything will be okay," bullshit. If I called for him, he would arrive baring the body of a warrior, not the eyes of a boyfriend. When it all comes down to it, that's what he is; a hero first, a lover second. And maybe that's why our relationship wasn't working, because we were lost in our own worlds. I look back at these past two months, and I see nothing like the fairytale we dreamt of having. I hate to say that I never kissed his soul like I did his lips, that the only part of him I made love to was his body.

It was always me and him, but never us. That will forever be my biggest regret, and the fact that I'm only realizing it this close to death, when there's absolutely no time left at all, only makes it a hundred times worse.

"No," I murmur into the phone. "Stay home, my love. It's far too cold tonight, I don't want you to freeze."

Leonardo snorts, clearly pissed off by my response. "You're such a hypocrite," he hisses in disbelief.

I clench my fist, gritting my teeth. The hostility from earlier this evening has come back, strolling right on in like an old friend. As if I could ever be pleased with his presence. "Leo, I really, really don't want to fight tonight," I say, my words filled with exhaustion. "I called to say 'I love you,' that's all. We don't have to bring what happened earlier tonight back into this."

I'm met with an unbearable silence, much to my dismay. I expected him to reply in a giddy tone, with words that were beyond pleased with my suggestion. We could be confessing our undying love to each other right now, but rather, I'm waiting for even the slightest response.

"I'm sorry," I state, clearing my throat. "I shouldn't have left you like that, and I regret yelling at you in the first place." Once more, silence is the only thing coming through form the other end.

"I love you. I love you more than I care to admit, and you can note me on that one. These past three months have been the best of my life." I'm beginning to feel dizzy. My head is spinning, vision hazy. All feeling in my leg has dispersed into nothing, and I can feel the numbing virus spread throughout my entire body. "I want you to know that you've been the only thing keeping me going. I'm constantly looking forward to kissing your delicate lips, and staring into your dashing eyes as we pant at our lack of breath.

"I would marry you, you know. I would marry you in a heartbeat." I chuckle as I admit the next part, "I've dreamt of us having kids. Not at night, but during the day, because that's when your real dreams take place. I can just imagine how precious they would be, with your bright eyes and my thrill for adventure…"

"Let's do it, then," Leonardo suggests boldly. "Let's get married and move upstate to the O'Neil farmhouse. We can have lots of babies and little pet chickens. We don't have to keep up the fight we're maintaining down here. We can be happy."

I thought I was in love with the blue cladded turtle I'm speaking to. There wasn't just one thing about him that made me say that three worded phrase. It was everything; from his voice to his kiss to his personality. He was a diamond, that boy. The king I longed to rule beside, he was my everything.

But it is now, as I lay on this cold rooftop, only minutes away from my death, that I truly fall for him. Everything before was mere child's play. Because earlier this morning, it was me and him. As far as I was concerned, I was in love with the fearless leader, and that was it.

That is not love, I now realize. Love isn't falling for him, it's falling for us. And that's exactly what I've done just now, as we talked of the future we'd never truly have.

A common misconception that pollutes our world, is that wisdom comes with age. I can assure you that it does not. It isn't a result of experience, either. It is understanding. It is humbleness and a set of open eyes. As I lay here, pondering, overthinking, I become wiser than the oldest man alive. It's as I every question I've ever wondered has been answered.

One would think this is a powerful moment, and if not that, then at least useful.

It isn't.

Nothing will change my fate; despite the fact that I'm now hungry for life, I'm still about to die. Even though I'm in love with Leonardo and our relationship, we still won't receive our happily ever after.

"We can't," I state bluntly. A single, fuzzy glance at my leg is enough to remind me of the ticking clock my life has become. "Leonardo…DaVinci Hamato, I l-love you."

It's believed that when you die, certain senses leave first. For me, it was sight. I couldn't see a thing as my body fell back, head banging against a cold, metal pipe. I could hear Leonardo's panic-stricken voice as he yelled into the speaker. He was so obviously choked up on tears; he knew something wasn't right.

I opened my mouth to reassure him that everything was going to be okay, but not a syllable came out. It was as if my vocal chords had been ripped clean out of my throat, although, I could feel no pain. It felt like I was floating on a cloud. My body was oddly numb.

As the rest of my senses left, I thought about inaccurate they all had been when it came to predicting death and its process. There is no pain, in fact after only a few short moments, you've lost your ability to feel just about anything at all. It's almost relaxing.

Your life doesn't flash before your eyes, either. You are in complete control of your thoughts, and, if you're like me, you think of your final day. About how you woke up this morning without knowing that you only had a few hours to live. How you wasted your last meal on a half-cooked hot pocket, how your last shoulder hadn't even been warm enough to be pleasing. About how the last time you see your lover, you didn't even think to hold them close. You didn't give them a goodbye kiss, you didn't hug them till they couldn't breathe. You left as if you'd come back.

I wasted my life away with all this careful planning. I had the next ten years planned, if not my whole life. I was reluctant to do anything had it not been planned. Ironic, considering I was known to leap into a fight without any set plan or orders given. Little did they realize that I always had a plan; survive.

None of that planning matters in the end, though. Because no matter how you live your life, you'll always end up buried six-feet in the dirt. So why waste your time on something so empty, so meaningless?

In my final moments of life, when my body is numb and all is black, silent, and tasteless, I am soundlessly laughing at the irony of it all.

Because we fear death, but do not know how to live.

That is the true irony, the raw kind, too. The kind that leaves you cackling at its unlikeliness.


End file.
